


Breaking and Gentling

by halfhardtorock



Category: The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: First Time, M/M, PWP, Unsafe Sex, big meaty Channing Tatum bucking horse rider, homophobic slurs used by two gay men, the Rodeo au, the Romeo and Juliet Rodeo au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 05:40:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4423517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfhardtorock/pseuds/halfhardtorock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've been competing against each other for so long, Marcus can't even remember a time when their families weren't feuding, weren't busting their backs trying to take titles out of each other's hands. He can't remember when the name <i>Esca</i> wasn't something that frayed at his nerves, made him feel as frustrated as a riled horse</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking and Gentling

 

 

Esca left the circuit before that palomino threw Marcus into the bucking chutes, busted his leg. It healed all wrong the first time and they had to break it again and re-set it, so he hasn't been able to compete in a long while. He's gained a few from the downtime and from drinking. When he goes to put on his nicest shirt, the collar has gotten all tight on his thick neck.

He frowns, unbuttons it. Then rebuttons it in front of the mirror before he puts on his necktie.

He looks like a dope, hair all brushed to the side, shirt too tight. But he drags on his jacket quickly, locks up his front door behind him.

 

 

There's only a handful of stragglers at the open grave, all hunched together. 

And Esca's there, in a charcoal suit, hair fluffy, mussed up in the wind. Marcus parks his truck, limps slowly up to join them.

Esca's eyes find him, small and squinting in the wind. Marcus touches his own hair down, trying to look presentable. 

It's cold as a witch's tit, and Esca's shivering in his nice clothes. Marcus's probably being real creepy, staring like this, but he can't look away. He hasn't seen the kid for a long time, and even though he's probably just going to go home alone tonight and fuck his own hand, he's here with him now and damned if he's not gonna get his fill of looking.

Esca looks back.

They've been competing against each other for so long, Marcus can't even remember a time when their families weren't feuding, weren't busting their backs trying to take titles out of each other's hands. He can't remember when the name _Esca_ wasn't something that frayed at his nerves, made him feel as frustrated as a riled horse. He used to go to bed as a kid, sore from riding, and glare into the dark while he thought about the smaller boy, who was always just a bit quicker on his horse, just a bit cleverer, just a bit nicer to look at than all the girls Marcus ever saw.

He didn't realize until late that all this tension he carried in his gut for Esca was something other than feuding. Didn't realize until Esca left and he found himself pining for months after, always looking for that familiar blue shirt in the arena even when he knew he wasn't there. Then he busted his leg and had a long time to pull out and unravel all that mess inside him. And as it turns out, he's a bit queer, and a bit in love with the stupid, wiry bastard.

One of Esca's people, an older woman, probably one of the aunts, quirks a look at him when the funerals over. 

"Didn't think any of your kind would be showing your faces today," she says, though it's almost a tease, all full of fondness for familiar sights in the gloom. 

Marcus nods his head. "He was the best bulldogger I ever saw, ma'am. Man's gotta pay his respects."

She smiles, mouth thin like Esca's. And then she pats his arm a few times. Says "You take him out, get him drunk, bring him back in the morning. We'll take care of him then," she says.

Marcus is surprised, shoots Esca a look. Esca is staring back. There's a tall man with a mustache talking to him, but his eyes keep track of Marcus.

She's waiting for an answer. So Marcus says "Yes, Ma'am," all breathless.

Then she takes the arm of an older woman, and they walk back down to the cars.

He just has a moment to touch back his hair again before Esca is at his side.

His heart's in his throat. 

Esca shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, says politely "My cousin said you've been out for a year. Your leg?"

Marcus nods, smiles a little, self-conscious. "Yeah, got it fucked up good," and then he clears his throat. "I was sorry to hear about your dad."

"Yeah, well," Esca says. But then he looks shell-shocked, at a loss for words. 

Marcus finds himself wanting to put his hands all over the kid, but mostly to grab him by the scruff of the neck and tug him closer.

When Esca gazes back up at him, his eyes are _wild_.

"I got a bottle of Jack in my hotel room," he tells Marcus.

It's not a sure thing, but Marcus says "I'll drive." Esca just nods sharply, starts trudging back down the hill in front of him, cutting a narrow, crooked figure in the chill.

Marcus gnaws at his lip, hands feeling big and clumsy as he follows. 

 

 

Esca leaves the door open for him, and just starts _undressing_. 

First he tugs off his boots and tosses them at the wall. Then he's stripping out of his suit jacket and tie, his dress shirt.

Marcus stands uncertain in the open doorway, framed by the coming night.

He's down to just his slacks and a thin undershirt when he turns around, looks at Marcus with narrow eyes.

"I thought if I came back, you'd be the Rodeo king of Texas," Esca says. His body's gone all tight at the shoulders, small and compact, but his hips always roll with grace like he's comfortable in his body. That's how he stays on a horse, rolling with it.

Marcus closes the door behind him. "Yeah, you know me, all guts but no glory."

Esca grabs the handle from out of a paper bag behind the bed. He sets up two of the coffee cups housekeeping left, pulls off their paper tabs and fills them. 

Marcus comes closer, jittery. He wipes off his mouth a little before he takes the offered cup, says "Thanks."

Esca watches him while he drinks. Marcus downs the small cup in two pulls, barely registering the burn.

"Drink slower," Esca says, lifting the handle again. Marcus holds up his cup, feeling like a chastised boy, gets a refill.

When he goes to take another drink, Esca adds "Are you a queer now?"

Marcus chokes. His nose burns when the whiskey goes the wrong way.

"They said you might be. I almost came home a month ago, to see," Esca pauses and looks at him with dark eyes. Marcus feels like a piece of tinder caught fire. His blood _heats_ with the horror of the moment. 

They stand there together, Esca pondering him silently. Marcus feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest.

Finally, Esca turns aside. He's reaching back to squeeze at his own shoulder, rub it like he's gotten all tighter with stress. "The first time I saw you, you rode by me at the youth barrel race, tipped your hat. My brother had a fight with your uncle in the parking lot, and I remember when you grabbed me by the arm, stopped me from jumping in too. I remember everything about you. You were wearing that red plaid that used to be your favorite. Yeah?"

" _Esca_ \--" Marcus breathes. 

"Your people, your family...I was supposed to despise everything you stood for. And I would have... _if_ \--" 

Marcus clenches his cup in anticipation, until it might split in his hand.

Esca's eyes are _feral_ when he looks at him. "I want to hunt down all the men you brought to your bed instead of me," Esca growls.

"Oh goddamn _hell_ , Esca," Marcus says, and takes the kid by the arm, jerks him close.

Suddenly they're grappling each other, tearing at each other's shirts. Underneath his undershirt, Esca's abs are _lean-cut_ , pale. They pit when he slaps his hand to them, feeling there impatiently. Esca grimaces, lips pinched together when Marcus gropes him up, rubbing a hand over his chest to dry-thumb his nipple.

Esca's hands grasp his upper arms, squeezing, testing, fingertips digging in sharp.

"You got all meaty out of the saddle," Esca tells him, voice low. 

"Ah. Shit," Marcus hisses, "It was.. it was a hard time--"

"-- _I like it_ ," Esca interrupts, clipped, and draws Marcus into him by his tie, clever fingers beginning to pry apart the knot at his throat.

"Jesus, I didn't know you'd want it," Marcus groans, dropping his head, eyes closing as he feels Esca working open his collar. And then he gasps, jerks back. 

His bottom lip stings from being caught and bitten by quick teeth. Marcus stares at the kid in surprise. Esca's mouth snarls as he reaches between Marcus's legs, cups a hand around his sex. 

Marcus lets out the air in his chest. Esca massages at his cock, his balls with a firm, knowing hand.

"Goddamn, _goddamn_ ," Marcus groans, shivering. "Esca, man."

Esca's face is all hot intent, almost sly with interest. 

"Take me to bed, then," Esca says softly, beckoning. "I want you on top of me."

Marcus sets his jaw, turns them roughly towards the bed. He walks them across the room with his hands hard on Esca's narrow shoulders. 

The kid strains against his shove, mouth needy. Wanting. Marcus sighs, tilts down, in. Takes that kiss with a soft, wet sound.

"Yes, Marcus," Esca says after, panting. "That's it, my friend."

 

 

His body is wracked with fine trembles, all over. Esca's knees are hooked high above his hips, holding him close. 

"Aw damn," Marcus keeps saying, helpless and blushing. It's so _tight_ inside Esca, so tight and narrowing sharper when Esca _winces_ and tenses around him. "Aw, damn. Aw, _damn_."

"You're...fuck, _thicker_ than I guessed," Esca growls out, bearing his teeth. 

"Am I," Marcus breathes, body still trembling, embarrassingly aroused. "--Hurtin' you?"

Esca _twists_ suddenly, angling down to take Marcus deeper still, to sheath his cock in his lean body. Marcus cries out, drops his face to Esca's, to the kid's cutting cheekbone.

Esca _rolls_ underneath him, riding Marcus from the bottom. 

"Aw damn. Esca, fuckin' hell," Marcus says, and he's only shallow breaths away from holding the kid in place and giving into the mean, _frantic_ stroke his body wants.

Esca's licking his own thin, smart lips, then putting them to Marcus's jaw, sucking with teeth. When he reaches Marcus's ear, he tells him "I can feel you want to ride me. Do it."

Marcus is shaking the bed into the wall, his own asshole all tightened up on itself, defensive. He's trying to hold his sex back, hold his hips still. His muscles burn. He tries so hard to keep himself in check. "Oh goddamn, Esca. I can't."

"Ride me into the bed, Marcus. _Go on_ ," Esca goads, eyes bright, glittering at him. 

He reaches down, takes a rough hold of Marcus's ass and _jerks_ him deeper.

And then he _whimpers_ when Marcus gives up, when Marcus screws his face and starts giving it to him.

The bed thumps angrily into the wall and he's _grunting_ , sweating, taxing the kid's body. He can feel the way Esca's hands find his shoulders, shove and then _grab_ , pull him closer and push him away with the heels of his hands like he can't stand it but wants it anyway.

Marcus puts his weight into it, feels Esca _gasp_. Feels his body just go smooth and open for Marcus's excited, choppy fuck. 

"Ah, _fuck yes_ ," Marcus groans, nailing _deep-deep-deep_ for hard minutes as Esca scrabbles at his back, as his legs jostle around Marcus. The sweet-tight warmth of Esca is maddening, makes him lose his mind in searching out that pleasure. 

He writhes and sweats, can't even keep his eyes open to watch the flashes of hurt and shock fly over Esca's face.

"Oh god, Esca," he gasps, arching as his balls tighten up right before the spasms.

It's a short time, not nearly enough to sate him before he's jamming Esca's tight ass up with a mess of come. His orgasm leaves him red-faced, trembling again, the agitation pouring out of him into the kid's body.

"God," Esca breathes, voice broken. "There it is."

Marcus just groans long, hips moving in small circles, finishing, balls twitching weakly.

 

 

Esca's cock is still stiff on his abdomen when Marcus comes back to bed with a hot washcloth, squeezed so it's just barely damp in his hand. 

Esca peers at him under an arm thrown over his forehead, and then looks like he's going to get up, so Marcus puts a hand to his chest, puts him down again.

"Wanna take care of it," Marcus says, brusque. Sits beside the lean spread of the kid, lifts his hip a little.

He watches Esca's face as he starts rubbing the cloth over his asshole, which has gone soft and hot to the touch from being reamed so good. Esca bites his lip, arches, head turned away.

"You felt...real good to me," Marcus says, cleaning Esca, fingering him a few times just to feel the way the hole gapes a little, well-stretched.

"Mmmm," Esca says, pained. And then he puts a hand on himself, starts a neat stroke. Good, sharp flicks of his wrist.

Marcus watches, breathing heavily from his mouth. He runs a finger all around the kid's raw rim, letting him feel every tender part of his worked flesh. Sometimes it must feel real good, because Esca arches suddenly, fist quickening.

"I'm almost there," Esca tells him, voice rough with his focus. 

"Yeah," Marcus says, swallowing. And lets one of his fingers line up, press through the swolled-up center of his body and into where he's all sleek and tight and _wet_ now.

"Oh Marcus, _Marcus_ ," Esca moans and jacks his orgasm in streaks across his stomach. The way he says it is _gorgeous_ , foreign, accent so different from Marcus's. And the way his ass screws around his finger in clinging waves makes Marcus sigh, begin to stiffen again.

When he pulls free, he's drawn out his own come, left deep in the kid. He swallows, brings the cloth down again, cleans him. 

The cloth has gone cool. Each rub at Esca's hot flesh makes Esca hiss, makes him screw up in defense, eyes full of dark pleasure.

 


End file.
